


Retrograde

by phlossie



Series: Overgrown - James Blake Inspired [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlossie/pseuds/phlossie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, we get what we want because we deserve it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retrograde

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written to time with James blake's song Retrograde.  
> If you're a moderately fast reader and you start the song when you start reading, you should finish reading as the song finishes! :)  
> For those of you who do not fall into this lucky group, well never fear! you don't have to listen to it, although using it as a looped soundtrack (or just slowing down a bit) wont hurt! :)

 

It was in the moments of quiet, after the battles, after the pack left, after he came down from the adrenalin rush. 

 

In that crystal calm he would allow himself to imagine it. 

 

Curling around him on the couch, letting the tiredness wash out the fear as the shaky reality of survival set in. Being there when the last of the adrenalin shook from his fingertips, being there to press kisses to his tired eyelids, to let him know it’s finally okay to give in, to let the walls down. 

 

In those moments he would ache to feel the heaviness settle from his bones, to let the gentle lull pull him out of his head. 

 

It was the only rest he found, those precious moments of tranquility after the storm. 

 

They’d stare out into the star studded trees and watch the soft grey light of predawn draw the outline of the horizon. 

 

Their lives would never be that simple. 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles pushed his way past the congregation of wolves in Derek’s living room. 

 

It was the summer of their graduation. He was going to UC in Fall, Scott had been offered a place at a medical school less then thirty miles away; he kept delaying his decision, but everyone knew he’d take it in the end because Isaac was going to a college in the same town. Lydia was going to Harvard. 

 

He didn't know what Derek was going to do, he’d said something about getting a flat in Phoenix once. 

 

He dropped his offering of wolfsbane infused vodka on the bench, they were having a kind of celebration tonight, Kira finished her last exam the previous tuesday, so everyone was finally free of their Lydia approved study timetables. There was already a fairly substantial collection of bottles crowding the table top. 

 

“I hope you put the right amount in this time.” Derek loomed out of the corner, a habit they still hadn’t managed to break him of, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

 

“Of course I did Sourwolf. You just cant hold your liquor.”

 

Derek raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Stiles!” Scott called from across the living room. “Com’ere!” 

 

* * *

 

 

There was glitter on his carpet, multicolored spill marks that almost made the faint blood stains disappear. 

 

It was going to be hell to get out. 

 

Maybe he’d just leave it. 

 

Stiles would probably find it funny. 

 

“So, that went well...” 

 

He turned and shrugged, Stiles was munching on a piece of pizza and leaning on the kitchen counter like he belonged there. It was disconcertingly familiar. 

 

“I mean, no one went through the window this time, and there were no accidental gorings.” Stiles waved his pizza pragmatically, shrugging into his point. “You seemed to enjoy it.” 

 

Derek went to find another bottle of beer. 

 

Stiles went over to the television and perused his DVD collection. 

 

“Oh ho! You have an Anderson collection! Derek, you never told me you were a hipster!”

 

When he came back to the couch and sat down Stiles was already rolling the opening credits.

 

He barely even registered the movie, because the moment he sagged onto the tired cushions, Stiles shuffled across and settled himself comfortably against his side. He let the warmth seep into his bones and the tension slide off his shoulders. 

 

He didn’t wake again until the room lit up with grey dawn light. Stiles was tucked under his chin, fingers loosely curled into his shirt. They’d oozed into a horizontal position during the night, and Derek’s feet were slung off the edge of the couch to accommodate Stiles’. 

 

Something settled in his chest and he realized; it was perfect, everything he had ever thought it would be. The breathtaking simplicity of Stiles in the morning light, sleep warm and resplendent. 

 

“Mmm, G’m’rn’n” Stiles scrunched himself into Derek’s chest, pressing his face into his sternum. 

 

“Morning.” He slid his arm from where it was slung over the small of his back, up to his shoulder blades and rubbed soothing circles there. His heart in his throat and his body thrumming with anxious anticipation.

 

“Hey” Stiles lifted his head, shifting so he was lying flat against Derek’s chest “Hey” and forced him to meet his gaze. 

 

Derek wondered if he could see it written on his face; the terrified hope. 

 

He let his head fall forward, gently resting it against Derek’s, he smiled “It’s okay.” 

 

He grazed his fingertips against the strip of flesh below Stiles’ ribs, and let the heaviness settle form his bones, let Stiles pull him out of his head. 

 

“I love you.” 

 

And it was easy, not the way he’d thought it would be. Screamed over the roar of a fight, or rushed between those last few precious breaths, torn from him by fear of the should haves. 

 

No, it was calm, replete, built on possibility. 

 

A tiny smile curled around the corners of his spotted face, his eyes sparkled. “I know.”

 

A bubble of laughter tickled its way up Derek’s throat, but Stiles pressed forward before it surfaced, vanishing all thought, lighting up the furl of warmth tucked beneath his ribs and making his fingertips tingle. 

 

The bones of his chest ached with how full he felt, like his skin was too small, and nothing, no imagining, nothing, could ever have prepared him for this. For the reality of Stiles, the perfection, the imperfection, the tiny nip he left on Derek’s bottom lip as he pulled away, the perfect slide of his nose against his cheek. The cheeky grin he flashed to hide the niggling anxiety he still felt, and the soft kiss Derek pressed to his chin to abate it. 

 

“I love you too.”

 

 

And it was all he needed, as the sky bloomed into sunrise, to see Stiles’ face light up with it too.

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, please, please, please feel free to leave a comment! or a kudos! :)
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr. 


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